Pandemic

by Ventresca, Yvonne

  “What?” I asked. Ethan had always been a snail about apologizing.

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I know you’re worried about your dad. I shouldn’t be such an insensitive jerk.”

  Wow. I paused with my hand on the doorknob.

  “But I can’t help feeling that we’re letting something great slip away. Maybe . . .” He looked down, as if he were afraid to meet my eyes. “Never mind.”

  “What is it?”

  He took a step closer, put his hands on my arms. “I thought that if we kissed one last time, maybe it would help you see how special this is. If you don’t feel anything, anything at all, I’d be willing to move on.”

  “I’m not—”

  Ethan was already leaning toward me, his face tilted at an angle that used to fit perfectly with mine.

  I shut my eyes, resigned to the kiss that followed. I wanted to feel something, to prove to myself that I was normal again. His lips felt familiar, but wrong somehow. I did feel longing, but not for Ethan. What I felt was a longing for my life before. Before Mr. B. Before the flu.

  We were kissing when the door swung open. I pulled away in time to catch Jay’s expression, to see him mistake our embrace for something it wasn’t.

  “You didn’t need to ring the bell,” Jay said. “You can just walk in. That’s what friends do.” He rushed back inside before I could say anything.

  Ethan smirked, clearly pleased with himself.

  “You are such a jerk.” I shoved Ethan hard with both hands. “You actually rang the doorbell during our kiss? So you staged that little scene for Jay’s benefit?”

  “What difference does it make?” Ethan said. “You told me there’s nothing going on with him.”

  Furious, I marched into Jay’s house, stopping near the others gathered in the family room. Ty played video games while the group studied a map. Everyone glanced at me except Jay.

  Ethan shuffled in. I moved next to Ty on the couch.

  “You’ll start on the nearest roads and fan outward,” Kayla said. “Ethan, Lil, you can go toward River Street, then loop back.”

  “All right,” Ethan said.

  I quietly gritted my teeth.

  “What about Scott and Jenna?” Jay said. “They needed supplies.”

  “Derek and Elsa, you can stop by their houses on your route,” Kayla said. “Then you can circle out to the surrounding roads.”

  While we were gone, the others had filled four large backpacks with water, canned soup, pain reliever, crackers, and baggies of pet food Elsa had assembled. Everyone was ready.

  Except me. I wanted to clear the air with Jay, but he still wouldn’t look at me, not even when he handed out the masks to everyone. Kayla hovered near him like a predator stalking its prey.

  “Keep a lookout for looters,” he said. “Everyone has my number in their phones?”

  We nodded.

  “OK. See you later.”

  “Let’s do this,” Ethan said to me.

  Clenching my fists, I reluctantly fell in step beside him.

  We made our way down the first streets quickly, falling into an awkwardly quiet routine. I kept the map, pointing out the houses from the school directory. Ethan did the talking at each door, handing out supplies if needed. We kept our conversation to a minimum. I reported the results back to Jay as we walked to the next house.

  “No one home at twenty-four Barngate,” I said.

  “Got it.”

  “Four sick people at twenty-eight. We gave them soup and pain reliever.”

  “OK.”

  “We fed a dog through the mail slot at number thirty-two.”

  “Great.”

  Four whole words from Jay. Should I care? He was my neighbor, Megs’s mystery guy, Kayla’s next conquest. His abruptness shouldn’t sting as much as it did, should it?

  The backpacks got lighter as we made our way along the route Kayla had plotted. I had managed to avoid face-to-face contact with any sick people. Ethan had kept his distance, too, stepping back when people came to the door. After a few hours, we had twenty-seven no answers, two families who were fine, nine who gushed their thanks when we offered supplies, and the one dog we managed to help. Our conversations remained matter-of-fact and I stayed busy enough to avoid obsessing over Dad, worrying if he had his own soup and pain reliever to keep him going.

  We approached a gray house on River Street. I had some things to say to Ethan and we were almost done with our visits. I didn’t plan on talking to him again any time soon, so it was now or never. I took a deep breath and skipped the preamble.

  “Don’t ever touch me again,” I said.

  “You’re still upset about that?” He sounded cavalier but avoided my eyes.

  “I want to make sure I’m perfectly clear.”

  “Why? Was the kiss that awful?”

  “That’s not the point. You manipulated me.”

  “So? It was a kiss, Lil. It’s not like I tried to rape you or anything.”

  As he rang the doorbell, the volcanic rage rose inside me with no place to go.

  “Come in, come in,” a screechy old woman called.

  Filled with anger, I wasn’t thinking about what I was doing. I wasn’t thinking at all. Moving past him, I shoved the front door open and entered the house.

  CHAPTER 20

  In 1918, they used orphan trains to find homes for the children left parentless by the flu. What will we have today? Orphan blogs? Welfare services are completely overrun. We can’t possibly deal with the magnitude of children left without families.

  —Blue Flu interview, New Jersey social worker

  “Hello?” I called inside the house.

  “Hello!” someone answered.

  I stepped forward. Ethan followed, moving in beside me. I was about to yell at him when the smell hit me like a smack in the face. I gagged. “What is—”

  “Don’t look!” Ethan said.

  Too late. Three bodies sprawled across the family room couch—two boys and a younger girl. A man with brown hair like Dad’s lay on the floor. Their dark blue skin seemed surreal, as if they were part of a sci-fi movie.

  “Oh my God.” I walked backward toward the door, bumping into a wire cage.

  A large green parrot squawked and ruffled his feathers.

  “Oh my God,” it mimicked. “Oh my God.”

  We bolted outside. Ethan kept going when we reached the street but my stomach heaved. I bent over, ripping the mask off right before I threw up on the curb. “I can still smell it. Death. Can you smell it?”

  I leaned over, gasping. I wanted to run home, take a shower, and never leave my house again. I could shutter myself away with the donated food, stay inside forever while waiting for Mom and Dad. Helping other people was a stupid idea. Stupid, scary, and dangerous.

  “Let’s get away from here,” Ethan said, breaking my train of thought.

  We trudged to Jay’s house without speaking. Once inside, I bee-lined to the bathroom to splash my face with cold water and rinse the gross taste from my mouth. Lowering the toilet lid, I sat there, waiting for the shakiness to pass.

  But it didn’t. My legs trembled no matter how long I rested. I couldn’t get the smell of decay out of my nose, the image of death out of my mind. When I could finally stand, I found Ethan whispering to Jay in the kitchen. I tried to listen but Ty practically jumped up and down in front of me.

  “I’m at level twenty-four!” he said. “It’s my all time high! Come see.”

  He took my hand and led me to the TV, jabbering on about his game. Grateful for the distraction, I followed. Kayla lazed on the couch, looking relaxed. Ty’s cheeriness helped push away my annoyance at Kayla, my worries about my father, and thoughts of death.

  “See, Lil? That’s my score.” He pointed. “I’m only five thousand points away from the next level!”

  “That’s great, Ty.”

  “Will you watch me? She got bored.” He motioned at Kayla.

  “Of course.” Anythin
g to forget the dead family.

  Sitting next to Ty, I let his continuous narration soothe me. “Now I have to jump to the next cave, see? Look! I got the speed bonus.” I watched him for about ten minutes until he took a bathroom break. By then, my heartbeat had finally returned to normal.

  Ethan and Jay moved to the backyard, leaving Kayla and me alone. I glanced at her.

  “So,” I said.

  “Sew buttons,” she answered, a stupid joke we’d shared for years.

  I smiled, considered apologizing for the slap, but then Kayla cleared her throat.

  She angled her body toward me. “I loved Mr. B, you know. A lot of us did. But you . . . you had to practically ruin his life.”

  I bit the inside of my mouth, any desire to apologize gone. “Actually, he brought it upon himself.”

  She shrugged. “I was angry at you for a long time. But Jay could help me recover.”

  The thought of Kayla with Jay disturbed me more than I wanted to admit. “But—”

  “I’d hate for you to mess this up for me, too. So please don’t interfere. Or I might slip and tell him all about you.”

  It took me a minute to understand what she meant. She was threatening to tell Jay about what happened with Mr. B. She knew how important it was for me to keep that a secret. And now, in the midst of the flu pandemic, she threatened to expose my hurtful past.

  Does it even matter anymore? That family on River Street was dead. Megs was dead. The odds of my own family making it through this alive were bad. Jay wasn’t speaking to me and Kayla still wanted to cause drama.

  I had bigger things to worry about.

  I never answered her. I rose slowly from the couch, walked outside, then sunk onto Jay’s front stoop, wishing for the millionth time that I could call Megs. Or Dad. Or Mom. Did she even know how sick Dad was?

  Scanning through old emails on my phone, I found the itinerary Dad had sent me. It included the number of the hotel he’d been staying at. Since he wasn’t answering his cell, I hoped to reach the people taking care of him or at least find out where he was being treated.

  Someone answered on the twelfth ring.

  “This is Rick at Salina Hotel. How may I direct your call?”

  “I’m trying to find my father, Keith Snyder. He was part of the hotel quarantine. He called me earlier. They were trying to move him, I think.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, miss. Unfortunately, we don’t have access to any of the quarantine records. You’d need to talk to the Salina Health Department. They’ve been in charge of the victims.”

  “Victims?”

  “I mean, um, the patients. They’re in charge of the patients. If you need more information, call the Health Department directly.” He rattled off the number.

  I hated getting the runaround but called anyway. The line was busy. I programmed the number into my phone and tried a few more times.

  Of course when I got through, I was stuck in automated menu hell. After pressing zero, the system put me on hold for ten minutes before the woman who answered told me to call Patient Services.

  “But I’m not a patient. I’m trying to find someone who is ill.”

  “That’s the department you want, sweetheart.”

  Right. After nearly endless phone prompts, a recorded voice told me that due to high volume, no one at Patient Services was available to answer my call and to try again later.

  As I tucked my phone away, the sound of voices startled me. Derek and Elsa approached the house followed by three little girls with suitcases. So they had found orphans in town. My heart ached for the kids with no one to care for them.

  The last girl trailed behind, her blonde head down.

  Oh no. I knew that blonde head.

  “Cam,” I said softly.

  She looked at me, her eyes lighting with recognition, then she ran into my arms.

  CHAPTER 21

  This pandemic has placed a tremendous burden on our network and communication systems. We apologize for any lapses in service but can’t be held accountable during these unusual times.

  —Blue Flu interview, president of telecommunications company

  Cam’s presence could only mean bad news about her mother. The moment she reached me, she started sobbing in my arms. I tried to be strong, to hold it together, but her crying made me weep, too. She was an orphan. For all I knew, I was an orphan as well. She hugged me for a long time after everyone else went inside.

  “You’re not sick at all?” I asked. “Achy? Coughing?”

  “My heart hurts. And my chest feels sad,” she said.

  I held her on my lap. Her stomach rumbled.

  “Is your belly sad, too?” I asked.

  “No, silly. That’s me being hungry.”

  We rose and joined the rest of the group inside. The two other girls were sisters who lived down the street from Cam. No one spoke about what happened to their families. Frankly, I was relieved. None of us could play the grief counselor role well enough for these poor kids.

  “Are you girls hungry, too?” I asked them. They nodded.

  Inside the fridge, Jay found leftover pasta from our dinner that seemed like a lifetime ago. He heated it while Ty set the table and I poured everyone boiled water to drink. Ty amused the girls with knock-knock jokes while they ate. Jay, Derek, Ethan, Elsa, and I crowded with Kayla in the family room to figure out what to do next.

  “What are we going to do with them?” I whispered to the group. “I have to pick up TK soon from Reggie. Then we’ll have four orphans.” Unease settled over me. I hadn’t thought this through. We had taken the kids out of their homes presumably to help them, but now what? We couldn’t handle taking care of them and the seniors weren’t willing to babysit at the center.

  “Should we contact the police?” Elsa suggested.

  “I’ll have my aunt try the next time she’s home,” Jay said. “Maybe if a nurse calls, we’ll get a different response. But we need someplace for them to sleep tonight.”

  Kayla studied her fingernails. Ethan shook his head. “My parents don’t even know I’m doing this.”

  “Puppies, yes. Children, no,” Elsa said.

  Derek, Jay, and I looked at each other.

  “Dude, my parents will kill me if I bring home some random kids,” Derek said, shaking his head.

  “The sisters can sleep here for a night,” Jay said.

  “And Cam can stay with me and TK. They all seem healthy, right?”

  “Yeah,” Derek said. “They seem all right. We left the letter you gave us,” he told Jay. “But the parents . . .”

  He didn’t have to say it.

  “There may be other relatives we can contact,” Elsa said. “But it seemed wrong to leave them to fend for themselves now. Anyway, I need to get home soon.”

  Derek agreed to drop me and Cam at the Senior Center, then return to Jay’s to take Ethan and Elsa home. I wasn’t sure what Kayla’s plans were.

  “Lil,” Jay said as I was preparing to leave.

  I turned to him, eager to resolve the awkwardness between us since the Ethan kiss. I wanted our easy friendship back. And who else could I tell about Dad getting sick?

  “I stopped by the Singh’s house for baby supplies,” he said. “There wasn’t any food. Either they packed the cupboards when they left or they were looted, too.”

  “Thanks for checking,” I said, knowing now wasn’t the time to discuss anything else. I tried to ignore my disappointment as he turned back to help the others.

  I summoned my strength for Cam, taking her hand as we walked to Derek’s truck. “You can stay with me, OK? I’m taking care of a baby, too. His name is TK. We’re going to pick him up now, then we’ll go to my house for tonight.”

  “OK,” she said. “Can we watch some dance shows later?”

  “Sure.”

  We found Reggie at the Senior Center, sitting in a large room set up with round tables and chairs. He bounced TK on his knee while making conversation with three women a
cross from him.

  I waved as we walked over, trying to squelch my nervousness at being around so many people. Old folks weren’t likely to be contagious, though.

  “Hello, Miss Lil. Are your ears burning? I was telling the ladies here what a nice job you’re doing with the baby. And who’s this new friend?”

  “This is Cam. She’s going to help me with TK for a while.”

  A lady with wispy gray hair reached for TK, cooing at him. Reggie handed him to her, then stood, motioning for Cam to take his seat. “They have cookies,” he said. “I’ll get you some.”

  Cam sat, dangling her feet. The lady handed her a rattle and she shook it for TK.

  “Let’s talk over here,” Reggie said, “away from little ears. What’s going on?”

  “It’s bad,” I said. “Jay has two other orphaned girls at his house. We can’t take care of all these kids.”

  A woman heh-hemmed behind me. “Well, if it isn’t Miss Teen Humanitarian,” the voice said.

  I turned to see a small wrinkled woman with curly white hair. She looked like a tiny Mrs. Claus, but I knew better than to underestimate Mrs. Templeton based on her appearance. She had a big personality inside that little body.

  “Hi Mrs. Templeton. How are you?”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Unlike you.”

  She’d had a gruff attitude even when we worked on the elementary school project together. The months hadn’t mellowed her any.

  “Unlike me?” I asked, taking the bait.

  “Since you won your damn award, Lilianna, I’ve only seen you on a few occasions. And once you had a cigarette in your hand. Tsk, tsk.”

  I don’t know what was more shocking: that she had seen me smoking or that she was actually tsk-ing at me.

  She gave me the once-over. “You’ve certainly changed your appearance. Since when do you want to help orphans?”

  “Since their parents dropped dead from the flu.” I wasn’t about to back down, not even to the former mayor.

  “Tell me more about these kids,” she said.

  Using an eyebrow raise, I asked Reggie if she was reconsidering. He nodded, so I explained to her what we had accomplished in one afternoon. I hit the highlights: the number of houses we visited, the families we helped, the unfortunate circumstances of TK and the three girls who were left in their homes. I ended with a simple “please.”